


Under the Oak and the Beech

by alexcat



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 20,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3881680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcat/pseuds/alexcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of Thranduil of the Greenwood from his childhood until the fourth age.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Sailing  & Chapter One - A Child of the Wood

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank Jenny for betaing and Talullahred for her lovely cover art. 
> 
> This story is dedicated to Jenny because no one loves the elves of Mirkwook more than she does. It is also written in memory of Sara, who I miss with every beat of my heart.

[](http://smg.photobucket.com/user/alexcat/media/oak.jpg.html)

 

Under the Oak and the Beech 

*

“Now of old the name of that forest was Greenwood the Great, and its wide halls and aisles were the haunt of many beasts and of birds of bright song; and there was the realm of King Thranduil under the oak and the beech.”  
\- J.R.R. Tolkien, _The Silmarillion_

*

Prologue – Sailing 

Thranduil rode a fine white horse into the old city once called the Havens. He was dressed in his finest clothes, kingly robes of midnight blue with golden threads shot through them and encrusted with tiny diamonds that caught the light and sparkled like hundreds of tiny stars. 

He wore the emerald necklace of Girion around his neck over his robes and below them the necklace of diamonds* given him many years ago by the little hobbit, Bilbo Baggins. 

He was not alone. Bringing up the rear were Lord Celeborn and his grandsons, Elladan and Elrohir. Celeborn was dressed in the simple white robes favored by him and the lady Galadriel when they ruled in Lothlórien many years past. The sons of Elrond wore the cloaks of silver-grey that they had worn since they’d become adults. 

It was a solemn and oddly formal procession. 

In the old abandoned harbor sat a tall ship with white sails. It bobbed gently against its moorings. A lone elf stood on the deck, the only elf who had ever sailed this ship back from Aman, Círdan himself. 

The elves dismounted. Thranduil watched as Celeborn and his grandsons led their horses across the wide plank and onto the ship. Celeborn turned back to look over his shoulder. 

Thranduil nodded and spoke. “Tell Legolas I shall stay to stand guard until Arda passes from memory. As long as I abide here, the light of the elves shall shine a little longer in this world.” 

Thranduil smiled, a gentle smile seen by few in his many years, as Celeborn answered. “I will tell him. My time is done here and I happily sail to see my wife. It has been a long, long while.” 

Círdan untied the rope from the dock and the ship began to move slowly away. Thranduil watched the ship until it was out of sight. His mind wandered back so many years that he could not now count them all…

* _Bilbo originally gave him a necklace of pearls but I have changed that for this story to diamonds._

 

~~~~

 

Chapter One - A Child of the Wood 

Thranduil waded in the stream with his father. He felt like he was as big as his father today. Mother said he was almost grown at six years old. He looked up at Oropher. 

“Will we fish today, Father?” 

“No, son. Your mother says that if bring we one more fish home, we will grow fins and swim away ourselves.”

“Then what shall we eat?” 

“Perhaps we shall eat rabbit. I have set traps and we’ll check them now.”

They left the stream and found the traps that Oropher had set. They were fine ones and should have been filled with a fat rabbit in each one but that was not the case. Something had managed to nibble the bait of green lettuces without springing the trap in each and every case. Three empty traps and no rabbit for dinner. 

Thranduil was quite worried. Mother might make them eat lettuces themselves if they didn’t bring home something a little more substantial. He wasn’t very fond of lettuces. He thought they tasted a lot like the grass that his new pony ate.

“Father, I have some of Aunt Lenna’s cakes hidden in my room. Perhaps we could bring those to Mother instead of lettuces.”

Oropher laughed. He’d wondered how Lenna’s cakes had disappeared so fast. Now he knew. He was raising a pastry thief! 

“I am not sure that wouldn’t just get us into more trouble. She might feed us turnips!” 

Thranduil could think of no worse torture than turnips for dinner. Lettuces were better than turnips! “Perhaps we could trade some lettuces for something better tasting in the village.”

Oropher patted his son on the head. “We shall have roasted chicken tonight. Mama is baking a fine one right now. I had hoped to bring her some rabbit for a nice stew as well but the chicken will do nicely and I promise to eat your portion of turnips if Mother makes them.” 

Thranduil was relieved. He knew they had plenty to eat but they lived out in the forest away from the village and he often wondered why this was so. His friends lived near the market and their fathers seldom hunted the food they ate. Sometimes they laughed at him for living so far into the woods.

“Father, why do we live in the wood?” He asked as they turned toward home. 

“Your mother and I came here many years ago to live in solitude, away from the crowds in the city and away from people who would say they are your brother and your friend and turn on you the first chance they get. When the Noldor went back to Aman, our people stayed here and made this world our own. I do not mean to give that world back to the Noldor now that they begin to migrate to our shores again.” 

“So that is why we live alone?” 

Oropher lifted his son up and held him high above his head. “That and the beauty of the forest. Look about you, my son. Is this to be matched in any building made by elves? I think not. I prefer the forest and its natural wonder to living among others.”

Thranduil wasn’t sure he agreed. He had lots of fun when he visited Aunt Lenna and played with her sons and the other elf children of the village. They had sword fights with wooden swords and shot arrows with blunt tips at imaginary enemies. He would love to live near them all so they could play every day. 

He also loved the jewels that Aunt Lenna wore on her fingers and in her hair. He wanted to find a pretty green one for his mother to wear in her hair. He had asked his aunt where the jewels came from. 

“Your uncle digs them from the ground inside of the mountains. He polishes them and chisels them until they shine almost as the two trees.” 

She took the ring off and let the small elfling hold it. He held it out so the light caught the facets. He smiled happily at the brilliant light they gave off. 

“Someday I shall have one of these for every finger I have!” 

Oropher interrupted his thoughts of gemstones. “I am going into the city tomorrow. Would you like to ride with me?” 

He cried out, “yes” and threw his arms around his father’s neck. 

The city of Calenost was a quite a bit larger than the village. There were many more buildings, people, and roads and much, much more noise. Thranduil loved to go there with his father. Father usually came for news and for some herbs and such that could not be grown at home. First they went to Oropher’s favorite tavern. His father would order an ale for himself and some of the tavern keeper’s homemade root beer for Thranduil. He would sit with his father and several other adult elves as they drank their ale and talked of news in the world around them. 

Thranduil sipped his ale and drew pictures of diamonds and emeralds while his father talked. He wasn’t paying much attention but he heard one of them say something about a Dark Lord and armies. He didn’t think that sounded fun so he asked his father if he might go to the water closet. 

His father’s friends had gone when he returned a few minutes later so they finished their drinks and went in search of the herbs Mother had asked them to fetch for her.

His father bought him some fruit at the market from far away, so far away that Father had never even been there. It was orange colored and the inside of the fruit was sweet and delicious and divided into sections. Thranduil would dream of days of what fanciful land such a wonderful treat might have come from. 

The journey home took all afternoon and it was dusk as they neared their own little yard in the middle of forest. 

Something was amiss. Thranduil smelled smoke and he saw an orange glow at the back of the house. 

Oropher jumped from his horse. “Stay right here and do not move,” he shouted to Thranduil as he ran toward the house. Thranduil saw fire and he jumped down from his father’s horse, but he stayed where he was, not daring to go any closer to the house. 

In a moment, Oropher came running from the house carrying Mother in his arms. She was not moving as he lay her on the ground. He shook her and called her named as Thranduil began to cry. 

She opened her eyes and looked at them both. “Oh, I am so glad to see you! I was afraid they’d kill me but they just set the house on fire. I hid from them!”

“Who, my darling? Who set the house on fire?” 

“I believe they were goblins. They were hideous and I could smell them before they even got here. That’s why I was able to hide.”

She reached for her weeping child and he fell into her arms. 

*

The next day, they packed up what they could salvage and left the rest. The small family headed for Doriath, where the land was protected from evil by the Girdle of Melían. Oropher would not have his family endangered again, no matter what. The King was a distant kinsman of Oropher and he thought well of both him and his beautiful Maia wife. Surely they would be safe there. 

~~~~


	2. The Caves of Menegroth

Chapter Two - The Caves of Menegroth 

Thranduil loved Doriath but he missed living in the woods more than he ever thought possible. He and his father sometimes camped and hunted in the woods around Menegroth, but it wasn’t the same. Mother seemed to enjoy it here though. She liked the company of other women and was learning healing from Melían herself. His father seemed happy but he suspected that was because Mother was so content. 

He had grown up a lot in the dozen years since they’d come here. He was almost grown now and felt as if he already were an adult. 

“Hey, Thranduil!” 

He turned. It was Celeborn, a new friend. He was one of the king’s nephews and only a few years older than Thranduil. They spent quite a lot of time together. 

“Are you ready to go hunting?” Thranduil asked him. 

“I’d rather watch Lúthien and the other maids in the baths!” Celeborn was quite interested in the girls, an interest Thranduil had not yet acquired. 

“Not again! The king will catch you someday and banish you to the outside and Goblins will take you away to the Dark Lord!” 

“Not today though. Come on!” Celeborn was very hard to dissuade from anything once he’d made up his mind. It was part of his charm. 

With a sigh, Thranduil followed him. “Can we hunt when we’re done peeping?”

Celeborn nodded as he motioned for Thranduil to be quiet. 

They hid in a bushy outcropping near the pool where the young elf women loved to bathe on a hot summer day. To Celeborn’s unending delight, they always bathed and swam naked. Thranduil certainly didn’t mind staring at those willowy young bodies but he was still young enough to prefer hunting and camping. 

After the girls left the pool, they finally made their way deeper into the wood to hunt. Thranduil brought a pack filled with sweets that his Mother had made as well as a small skin of his father’s wine, which he had stolen the evening before after everyone in his house was asleep.

“My father will kill me if he finds I’ve been in his wine.” 

Celeborn laughed. “I guess I am lucky. My parents are not here and my uncle is too busy to care what I do.” He pulled a pipe and a small bag from his pocket. “Pipe weed. They say it will make you see things that aren’t there.” 

Thranduil was scandalized. He’d never even seen another elf smoking a pipe, much less smoking something as scandalous as pipe weed. 

They hunted for a while and Thranduil shot a rabbit. Celeborn helped him dress it out and they put it on a makeshift spit and began to roast it. In the meantime, Thranduil opened the wineskin and they passed it back and forth for a bit. This wasn’t the first time and Thranduil knew that if he drank too much, he’d be silly or sick or both so he took small sips when it was his turn. 

“Do you think you’ll live here always?” He asked Celeborn after they’d eaten their rabbit and were laying on their backs, looking up at the night sky. 

“I love being here but I want to get out and travel and see the world. I want to see beautiful women, want to meet human women maybe. I hear they love elves.” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. 

Thranduil couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that all you think about?” 

“You’ll be thinking about it soon enough. Don’t you like the girls? Don’t you want to kiss them?”

“No, not really. I want to be in the woods and do things here, like hunting and fishing. I guess I’m just not ready for those things yet.”

They got out the pipe weed and tried it. Celeborn claimed that he could hear colors, but Thranduil knew the only thing it did for him was make him cough. He’d stick with Father’s wine. 

Both youngsters drifted off to sleep after they ate all their rabbit and drank all their wine. The sun was up the next time Thranduil opened his eyes. Had he told Mother that he might not come home? He was sure he did. He thought so anyway. 

Things were normal when they returned home. No one was looking for them though Thranduil did notice that Lúthien looked rather angry at them both. Celeborn deserved it, he thought, and her anger didn’t bother him one way or the other. 

All of that changed one day a few months later when a new family came to live at Menegroth. They were cousins of the king as well and had been offered a safe home here under the protection of Melían. This family had two children and one of them was a she elf with hair the color of the sun. Her name was Lúthwen. From the moment Thranduil saw her shy smile, he never loved anyone else. 

That did not mean that he actually spoke to her though. He watched her from afar most of the time. She didn’t seem to know he was alive as of yet. She spent her time with other girls her age and only noticed Thranduil now and again.

Celeborn thought he was being silly. He never had any problems talking to anyone, especially girls. 

“Just walk up and say, ‘My name is Thranduil. How are you?’ How easy is that?” 

“I am not yet ready. Leave me alone.”

Celeborn shrugged. He was not one to nag or aggravate anyone. He changed the subject. “Would you like to practice archery?” 

Thranduil agreed and no more was said about Lúthwen. 

Thranduil stopped mentioning her but he didn’t stop thinking of her. He secretly watched her and thought about her all the time. He knew when he was older, he would find the courage to talk to her but she was young like he was, too young for courting and much too young to do some of the things Celeborn thought about all the time. 

Someday he would marry her and have sons and daughters who looked just like her and they would have their own kingdom deep in the forest, much like the forest he lived in before he moved here. 

~~~~


	3. Young Love

Chapter Three – Young Love

Years passed and Thranduil grew up and so did Celeborn. Both were strikingly handsome and their good looks were not lost on the female population of Menegroth. Celeborn never spent an evening alone and seldom spent two in a row in the company of the same girl. Thranduil still only had eyes for one girl, Lúthwen. 

Lúthwen had grown up quite a bit as well. She was still blond and still beautiful, but she was beginning to develop the calm demeanor and serenity that would a perfect counter to the quick temper and impulsive nature of Thranduil. 

As of yet, they had not spoken more than three words directly to one another. 

Celeborn decided to remedy that. _He_ was going to talk to Lúthwen in Thranduil’s place, to tell her how much Thranduil liked her and wanted to know her better. He went to her home and knocked on her door. When her father, one of the royal guards, came to the door, Celeborn stood very straight and asked if he could speak to Lúthwen.

“Why would you think I’d let you court my daughter?”

Celeborn stammered and finally managed to say, “I am not here for me. I come for Thranduil, son of Oropher.”

“Why isn’t he here himself?” Lúthwen’s father asked, obviously annoyed that anyone was here to bother him and his daughter. 

“He is shy and he doesn’t know I am here at all.”

“Go away then. When he has enough nerve to come here himself, then he might be allowed to _speak_ to my daughter.” He slammed the door in Celeborn’s face. 

Thranduil did not know this when he finally figured that if he ever planned to get to know Lúthwen, he’d better do so now. The king would hold a festival in the early spring to celebrate the rebirth and renewal that came every year. There would be feasting and games and most importantly, a dance for the young elves to end the evening. 

Thranduil decided he would ask Lúthwen. Oddly enough, once he’d made up his mind, he was no longer shy nor nervous at all. He saw Lúthwen the next evening sitting with several other girls her age and marched up to her boldly. 

“Might I speak with you?” 

She smiled kindly and nodded. He reached for her hand and she took his, rising gracefully and following him just out of earshot of her friends. 

“I would like for you to accompany me to the festival.” 

“I’d be delighted but you must ask my father. He will not allow me to go with anyone he doesn’t know.”

He went to her father and her father said no. At a loss, Thranduil asked Celeborn about it and found that his friend was likely the reason for his rejection. He was upset but not enough to be angry with Celeborn. He decided to simply see her at the festival. 

The day of the festival was beautiful with warm sunshine and fresh flowers everywhere. Long tables with snow white tablecloths held food of every description. There were meats and vegetables, bread still warm from the ovens, cakes of every sort and more. There were games for the children and archery contests for the young men and women. Older elves sat around tables rolling dice and playing cards games.

Thranduil saw none of those things. He waited for Lúthwen to arrive. Lunch was served and eaten and there was no sign of her. Celeborn stopped trying to interest Thranduil in anything and wandered off to entertain himself. 

He decided that he might go home soon if she didn’t come. 

She arrived with a group of girls, their own princess Lúthien among them. Thranduil was so smitten that he didn’t even notice the elf said to be the fairest who ever lived. All he saw was the quiet blond by her side. 

He followed them at a distance as they traversed the park. Lúthwen was radiant, he thought, in her white gown with fresh flowers woven into her golden hair. He was sure that every elf in Doriath would fall in love with her today. 

When she saw him, she waved and beckoned him over. He almost tripped on his own feet in his haste to get to her. 

“Good morning, fair lady,” he said as he bowed low before her.

“Get up before my father sees you,” she whispered. “Let’s go to the waterfall.” 

Thranduil was a bit shocked and extremely excited. She wanted to go somewhere to be alone with him! He nodded and they made a rather hasty exit. She walked at a quick pace to the small waterfall where he’d often gone bathing with his friends and very near to the small pond where the girls often bathed. 

When they got close enough to hear the water roar, she stopped, turned to him and smiled. “I am glad to see you today, Thranduil. I’m sorry my father is such a grouch but he feels very protective of me since we are still new here.” 

“Will you get in trouble for coming out here with me?” 

“Probably, so I want you to kiss me and make it worth all the trouble I’m going to get into.” 

Thranduil was a bit shocked but he stepped closer anyway and awkwardly put his arms around her. He looked at her beautiful mouth and doubted that he had the nerve to kiss those lips, but she solved that problem for him by kissing him first. Her soft warm lips touched his for only a second and then they were gone. 

He felt as if he might float away. 

Instead he kissed her again, a longer kiss. She pulled him closer and sighed sweetly. He knew at that moment that she was the elf he would marry. 

“I love you already, Lúthwen. Will you be my wife someday?” 

She laughed, not in derision but with pure joy. “I thought you’d never ask me. I knew the first time I saw you and your friend watching me that I wanted to marry you.”

“How shall we tell your father?” 

“Carefully and just after we marry.” 

Thranduil pulled her close again and kissed her for the third time. 

~~~~


	4. The Coming of the Noldor

Chapter Four – The Coming of the Noldor 

Thranduil and Lúthwen had their own home near to his parents and they were happy as was all of Doriath for a very long time. 

Thranduil was as content as he would ever be here in his new home with his lovely wife. She made him a better person, he thought, and he told her so often. His mother agreed with him, loving her new daughter as much as she loved Thranduil. 

One day, everything changed. 

Celeborn was knocking on Thranduil’s door at dawn. “Have you heard?” 

Thranduil was eating his breakfast of fresh made bread and honey when he heard his friend. He let him in. “What are you so excited about?” 

“The Noldor have come.”

Thranduil knew his father disliked, maybe even hated, the Noldor.

“I have no love for the Noldor,” he told Celeborn. “Why are they here? Why has the Girdle of Melían not kept them out?”

“These are the children of Finarfin.” 

“I have heard my father mention Finarfin. But why are you so excited?”

“I watched them ride in and I saw her, the woman I want to spend forever with! She is beautiful!” 

Thranduil was actually impressed. Celeborn loved all females and had never spoken of anyone in such terms in all the years they’d been friends. 

“You’ll meet her tonight. King Thingol is having a banquet in their honor and you and Lúthwen must come!”

Lúthwen was curious as well. She wanted to meet the elf who turned Celeborn’s head. Thranduil was cautious about the newcomers, but he found both Finrod and Galadriel to be quite friendly. His father refused to come to the banquet, saying that he wanted nothing to do with any of Fëanor’s relatives, even nephews and nieces. 

Celeborn was completely smitten. 

Thranduil thought the siblings were holding something back, something they didn’t want their host to know. He decided to mention it to no one. It was none of his business anyway. 

He did, however, mention it to Lúthwen later.

“What do you think they are hiding? Wouldn’t Melían know?” She sat at her dressing table, brushing her golden hair and looking at Thranduil in the mirror. 

“I suppose she would. I think I shall not say anything. I certainly don’t want to cause trouble for Celeborn.” 

He rose from the bed and approached her, lifting her hair and sliding her thin gown down over her shoulders. He kissed the spot where her neck and shoulder met and smiled when she shivered. 

“Let’s forget about all that,” Lúthwen murmured as she turned around and let her garment fall to the floor. 

By morning, Thranduil had put it all out of his mind. 

*

Lúthwen was spending a lot of time with his mother, Melían and Artanis. She was learning about herbs and healing, something that all four women were interested in. She was getting to know Artanis as well. 

“She is quite taken with Celeborn. They are talking of leaving together soon,” she told Thranduil as they sat down to dinner one evening. “She says they will travel and find a kingdom to rule together.”

Thranduil made a rude sound at that. “Maybe Father was right. Maybe they do think they are better than the rest of us simple folk.”

Lúthwen playfully smacked his arm. “You know Celeborn wouldn’t want a wife who thought she was better than he is.” 

Thranduil thought that Celeborn was so blinded by love that he would do nearly anything to be near Artanis – or Galadriel, as he had named her. He also knew his father considered the Noldor to be interlopers and perhaps even criminals for the things they had done. 

As much as his father distrusted them, Thranduil had to admit the Noldor were wonderful companions. He enjoyed the time he spent with Finrod and Celeborn, hunting and exploring the area under the protection of Malian’s magic. Conversation at dinner was entertaining and they all loved to dance and sing. It was almost idyllic. 

Almost. 

Even Celeborn noticed the shadow that always seemed to hang over the Noldor, the notion that they kept secrets from Thingol, from them all. 

“Do you think Galadriel hides something from me?” Celeborn asked one day when they were out hunting without the Noldor kin among them. 

“Why would you say such a thing?” 

“When her cousins are mentioned, she gets quiet and she won’t look me in the eye.” 

“By her cousins, do you mean the sons of Fëanor?” 

“Yes.”

“Well, you know she bears none of them much affection.”

Celeborn smiled. “Maybe that is it. Maybe I am chasing shadows.” 

But the seeds of doubt were sewn and Thranduil found himself watching them, the children of Finarfin. They did act off, he thought, as if they kept a secret. As much as he wished Celeborn well, he dreaded finding out what they hid from Thingol and Melían.

*

Many miles away, Lord Círdan prepared a missive to be taken by courier to King Thingol. He rolled the missive up and sealed it with his personal seal, a sail and a dove. He gave the young elf a token that would grant him safe passage into Doriath. 

“Give this to no one but the King himself, Gildor. See if he has a reply and come back as soon as you can. I fear we will not be traveling freely for much longer.” 

He gave the courier a salute and sent him on his way.

The message was not one that he wished to send but one he felt compelled to send. The Fëanorians had slaughtered the Teleri at Alqualondë, joined by Fingon and his army. The Noldor had slaughtered elves, slain their own kin, a sin no one could, or would, ever truly forgive. 

Círdan knew that Finarfin’s children had not been responsible, but they were Noldor and should have told the king, their own kinsman, what had transpired. 

He sighed and walked out to the shipyard, taking up a brush and beginning to hand varnish the newest ship in his growing fleet. Thingol would have to do as he thought fit in response to the news. 

He hoped it did not inspire another kinslaying in Doriath. 

~~~~


	5. The Hidden Comes to Light

Chapter Five – The Hidden Comes to Light

 

Thranduil was at Thingol’s court with his father when the messenger came from Círdan. He watched as disbelief then fury crossed the king’s face. He, himself, had feared something like this was what Galadriel and her brothers were hiding when they came here. 

Had they been so arrogant that they thought no one would ever find out? 

King Thingol forbade anyone to say anything to the Noldor before he talked to them. He then sent for his wife and retired to his chambers, declaring that he would see all at dinner in the banquet hall. 

Thranduil hurried home to Lúthwen, telling her what had transpired at court. Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Oh no! I knew she hid something but this! Did she and her brothers take part in this… this horror?” Tears streamed from her eyes. It was only then that he realized what great friends she and Galadriel had become. 

“I do not know. The missive was vague… or at least Thingol was vague, but he is angry. I have never even seen Father _that_ angry. I fear for them all.”

Lúthwen was distraught over the news. She was frightened for her friend and angry as well. Thranduil had no idea how to make her feel better, so he did what his father did when he was upset and had no idea what to do. He stormed out, leaving his wife alone with her broken heart and adding to her worry. 

Oropher was watching for his son long before Thranduil stomped into his father’s house. 

“You have heard?” Oropher asked. 

Thranduil nodded, wondering how his father knew everything that happened in Doriath almost as soon as it happened. Did he have a spy in the court? He would ask him someday, just not today. 

“I was there when the messenger came from Círdan.” 

“He is angry?” Oropher asked, though surely he knew the answer to that one. 

“What do you think?”

“I cannot blame him. Noldor are Noldor though so why he would be surprised is beyond me.” 

Thranduil did not entirely agree with his father, but he was becoming more mistrustful of the Noldor with each passing hour. Fëanor had the arrogance to fly in the face of the Valar, even in the face of Eru for revenge and greed. Had the rest of the Noldor come for the same reason? He hoped not. 

Thranduil managed to stay away from home most of the day. He simply did not know what to say to his wife to comfort her. He rode out into the woods for a few hours alone. He needed to think. Perhaps it was time he and his father left this place. 

But wasn’t Doriath the safest place in Arda to live? Dark forces had been stirring for some time now and Melían’s Girdle made them all safe here in Menegroth, didn’t it? 

He was still weighing things when he finally did go back home to ready himself for dinner in the King’s hall. He did not know what Thingol would do… nor did anyone else. 

*

Thingol’s fury was almost tangible as the elves filed into the banquet hall for dinner. This dinner was anything but routine. Even Melían was subdued and the beautiful Maia was always the most joyous and happy of the denizens of Menegroth. She had warned him about the Noldor and the search for the Silmarils but even she had not known the truth of Fëanor and of the Oath. 

Galadriel’s brothers had come to visit and dine with their sister, whom they missed while she stayed in Menegroth with Melían. It was to Finrod that Thingol finally spoke. 

_”I marvel at you, son of Eärwen, that you would come to the board of your kinsman thus red-handed from the slaying of your mother’s kin, and yet say naught in defence, nor yet seek any pardon!”_ *

Finrod was angry and even a bit ashamed but he did not want to blame the others, his cousins, in front of Thingol. 

Angrod had no loyal feelings left and retorted angrily, telling their host of the sins of his cousins, telling the King of the kinslayings wrought by the sons of Fëanor. _”Wherefore should we that endured the Grinding Ice bear the name of kinslayers and traitors?”_ * he finished.

Thingol was so angry that he bade them go. 

“You can return one day but I do not want to look at any of you right now. And I never want to hear the language of those abominations in my land again. From this day forward, Quenya will never be spoken in my presence or in my kingdom. Now leave me!” 

No one spoke, not the Noldor nor the inhabitants of Menegroth. Thranduil watched as Galadriel’s brothers took their leave from the banquet followed by Galadriel and Celeborn. 

He held Lúthwen’s hand under the table, concerned for his friend but concerned even more for the future. If Fëanor’s sons had taken such a vile oath that they were willing to kill their own kinsmen to keep it, were any of them safe from the wrath of such elves? 

He was glad for the Girdle of Melían but these Noldor who were his friends had been allowed in as kinsmen and allies. Would the enemy come into the gates of Menegroth as easily and be welcomed? 

For the first time since they left their forest village many, many years before, Thranduil was afraid of what the future held for his family. 

In a few weeks, Galadriel left the city to visit her brother, Finrod. Celeborn stayed behind, hoping that she would return to him soon. 

Oropher was almost as angry as Thingol. “No good ever comes from the Noldor. Have I not told you this over and over, my son?” 

Thranduil was not sure that he had the energy or the conviction to argue. If his father decided to go, he and his wife would follow them and help establish a new kingdom. 

“You have, Father, and though I am fond of Galadriel and her brothers, I fear the news of the Fëanorians and the stones they seek. If they would kill their own kinsmen not once but twice, are any of us safe from them?”

Oropher shook his head. “We shall wait a while and see what happens.” 

 

~~~

* Words in italics are quotes from _The Silmarillion_ , Chapter 15 - Of the Noldor in Beleriand. 

~~~~


	6. More Secrets are Revealed

Chapter Six – More Secrets are Revealed

Doriath was not the same after that night. Thingol forgave the cousins but he never again allowed their language spoken in his presence. The court became quieter, more subdued. The carefree days were past. 

Oropher began to speak to Thranduil of leaving the land of Doriath and striking out on his own to find the forest kingdom he’d dreamed of for many, many years. 

“Father, I can understand your wanting to leave but where would we go? Would it be just you, Mother, Lúthwen and myself?”

Oropher shook his head. “There are elves with no homes out there, elves who need a strong leader to help them along, to protect them and guide them. Those are the people I will find and those are the people who will make up my kingdom.”

“We are safe here under Melían’s protection.” 

“How long do you think that will last? Evil times are coming, my son. We must be thinking of our families and our future.” 

Thranduil did not want to leave Doriath and hoped that his father’s ideas would pass soon. 

Even under the cloud the Noldor brought, Doriath was still a protected kingdom and its residents were safe. Thranduil and Lúthwen began to talk of a family of their own. 

“How many children would you have?” he asked one night as they lay in the quiet after making love. 

“Sometimes I want a house full of them, but some days I worry about bringing any children into a darkening world.” 

Thranduil pulled his wife closer, hugging her tight. “Do you really fear the future that much?” 

“I fear for this place, Thranduil. Thingol only sees what he wants to see and pays little attention to word from anyone else. Galadriel fears her cousins, the sons of Fëanor but Thingol seems to think that he is impervious to harm.”

“Father often speaks of leaving this city, of finding a land of his own.”

Lúthwen raised her head from his chest and looked him in the eye. “Is that what you want as well?” 

He shook his head. “I do not know. Life here is good. We have protection, we have plenty and we have made good friends here.”

“I believe that Celeborn and Galadriel will leave soon. She is going to abide with her brothers again soon, in any event. She, like your father, has mentioned wanting her own kingdom to rule.” 

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. “She has? Does she mean to be queen then?” 

“I do not know but she said she and Celeborn will go out into Beleriand and seek a new home.” 

“My father would never believe he has the same ambition as one of the Noldor.” 

She laughed. “Your father believes the Noldor to be the root of all evil in our land.” 

Thranduil pulled her on top of him and before he kissed her, he said, “He may very well be right.” 

Conversation was again forgotten as passion rose. 

Galadriel left the next week for an extended stay with Finrod in his new home, Nargothrond. Thranduil sought out his friend, Celeborn, knowing that what his wife said was true and very soon, his friend would leave the city and wander Arda with his wife. 

“Where will you go?”

“I know not yet where. I have no desire to visit Fëanor’s git. Galadriel trusts them not and I trust her judgment. I suppose we shall see what she means to do when she does it.” 

“My father means to leave, too.”

Celeborn didn’t look very surprised. “He cares not for the Noldor.” 

Thranduil laughed. “My father doesn’t trust anyone.” 

Celeborn looked hard at Thranduil for a moment and said, “Perhaps he is wiser than the rest of us are.” 

Several weeks later, Galadriel did return to Menegroth and she and Celeborn left quietly, telling only Melían and Thingol that they were going. Thranduil wondered if he would ever see them again. 

* 

Life soon got back to normal though. But the normalcy did not last long. Daeron, a musician and favorite in the King’s court, was about to turn the whole world upside down. 

Lúthien had a secret suitor and he was a man. Melían had foretold that a man would come through the Girdle and into Doriath but no one had paid much attention, least of all Thingol. He was certain that nothing could penetrate the safety spell. 

Beren had not only come into the land of Doriath but he’d seen Lúthien dancing in the wood and had fallen utterly and helplessly in love with her. He had watched her for some time before he finally came out of hiding and revealed himself to her. She returned his affection, infuriating Daeron, who was in love with her as well. 

Everyone talked of nothing else for days. How could any elf love a man? What on earth was Lúthien thinking? Perhaps she just wanted to upset her father. What an ungrateful daughter!

Thingol reacted as anyone would have thought he would. He ranted and raved and cursed for days. Melían said little. She had, after all, married _beneath_ her race as well when she married an elf. She wasn’t thrilled that her daughter loved a man; men lived such short lives and one day, Lúthien would be left alone. 

Beren was a brave soul. He would marry Lúthien no matter what her father said but he would certainly ask Thingol’s blessing first. 

A great banquet was set for the summer solstice and all of Doriath gathered in Menegroth for the celebration. No none knew that Lúthien and Beren would ask her father if they could marry. As the king stood on his dais, the crowd fell silent as Beren and Lúthien walked into the hall. Thingol’s face turned red with fury. How dare this – this – man to think he deserved the hand of a princess and an elf! 

But he did dare! 

“King Thingol, Father, this is my beloved, Beren. He is a son of the house of Beor of Dorthonion.”

Beren stepped forward without waiting for the king to acknowledge him, knowing that he only had one opportunity to speak for his beloved. He did not mean to let that chance slip by him.

“Your Highness, Lúthien and I are in love and wish to marry.”

“Why should I allow this?” 

“Because I love her more than life itself.” 

Thingol waved his hand, dismissing the man but Beren would not be dismissed. He did not move from in front of throne. 

“I will do whatever it takes to make her my wife.” 

Thingol said nothing for a long while then he stood, towering over the man on front of him. 

“I would have one of the Silmarils from the brow of Morgoth. When and only when you bring me one of those jewels, I will allow you to marry my daughter.” 

Without pause, Beren answered him. “It shall be done.” 

Lúthien stood by his side as he said, “We shall not return without it.” 

Thingol thought to save his daughter by locking her up, away from the madness of this man. Years later, Thranduil and all those present that night would remember it as the beginning of more sorrow than any of them ever realized could exist. 

~~~~


	7. The Fall of Doriath

Chapter Seven – The Fall of Doriath

Lúthien escaped and joined Beren in his quest, a quest that, in the end, cost everything. 

The women of Doriath thought the whole thing very romantic, Thranduil’s wife among them.

“Can you imagine loving someone so much?” she asked him wistfully as they got ready for bed one evening.

“Enough to be an idiot?” Thranduil knew that going after Morgoth could cause nothing but trouble. More trouble than he wanted. 

“Maybe. Would you do that for me?” 

“I should hope not! It’s a dangerous and stupid thing to do, Lúthwen. What if Morgoth comes after them? What if he comes here? Do you want to face dragons and monsters and fire?” 

“Is that all you can think about?” 

They went to bed angry, not for the first time and certainly not for the last. 

Oropher was ready to leave, to strike on his own but he hesitated because of the protection of the Girdle of Melían. Thranduil was still undecided if he would follow his father if they left. He loved this place, Menegroth. He had spent many happy years, most of his years, here. To leave would be to venture out into the unknown and the unknown right now was dangerous. 

After many months, Lúthien and Beren showed up. They did not have the Silmaril but Beren had lost his hand in its quest. Thingol relented and the pair married. The whole kingdom rejoiced for a week in celebration. 

But that damned jewel was still out there. 

It was closer than they knew. The wolf of Morgoth carried the burning jewel within his belly and he ran rampant over Doriath, killing and maiming as he went. Beren and many of the warriors went after the beast, killing it and recovering the Silmaril for Thingol but Beren died of his wounds soon after 

Thingol was distraught. He had his jewel but his daughter was pining away and died a few days after her husband. She returned to them a mortal and with her husband returned to life though Thranduil never quite understood how that happened. They moved away and took the Silmaril with them, returning it upon their death.

Thranduil finally saw it when Thingol wore it about his neck in a setting made by the dwarves. Upon seeing it, he knew why Thingol wanted it so badly, why Morgoth wanted it, why the sons of Fëanor sought it. It shone with a light he had never seen, the light of the two trees, the light of Eru himself. 

He thought about it all the time after seeing it and was not surprised when the dwarves came for it, killing King Thingol for it. Melían left for the Undying lands when her husband died and Doriath was no longer protected. 

Many years passed and many lifetimes for men but among elves, time means little and Thranduil and Lúthwen still abided in the city. It had been their home so many years that even unprotected, they were loath to leave it. Both Thranduil and Oropher stayed, helping guard the city and serving as captains among the wardens who patrolled the borders. 

Orcs began appearing in the outlying areas and they all knew that Orcs had been made by Morgoth as his evil servants. 

Dior, the son of Lúthien and Beren, was king when the sons of Fëanor came for the Silmaril. Even Morgoth himself could not have wrought such horror. 

Thranduil and Oropher had gone to the western-most border to train some young soldiers and guards. They saw the plume of smoke from miles away and rode toward home, to the sacked city. It was over when they arrived. The victors had gone already. 

For the rest of time, when Thranduil smelled wood burning, he would think of that day. It would be many years before he ever saw so many dead again. 

The king, Dior, was dead, and by his side was Celegorm. The two had killed one another. They had cut one another down in the very throne room where the Silmaril had been delivered to Thingol. From the damage, they had fought long and hard, neither willing to concede an inch. And neither had and they’d both died.

He found two more of the brothers as well as Dior’s queen, Nimloth. The queen had been in the children’s room but there was no trace of the children anywhere. 

Where was Lúthwen? Mother? 

He ran to his own home and found his wife in the cellar, a room his father had insisted be dug in the rock beneath his apartment. She was terrified but safe. 

“Where is your mother?” Lúthwen asked as soon as he found her.

“Perhaps she is in her cellar. Father has gone to find her.” 

“No!” she cried out. “She was just behind me, coming with me and she stopped to pick up a child who was crying, telling me to hurry, that she’d be right along.”

Thranduil’s blood ran cold. “Where was this?”

“Near the Queen’s apartments.” 

He began to run toward the Queen’s apartments though he knew long before he got there what had happened. He heard his father’s wails. He stopped short when he came upon them. She lay in the hallway, a small child dead in her arms. Both were felled by one sword thrust. 

His father looked at him, anguish bright in his eyes. 

“Help me bury her. Then I shall leave this place and never speak of it again. Do you understand me?” 

Thranduil nodded. 

* 

They went to the Havens first. Many of the other refugees had gone there as well. It was rumored that one of Dior’s children had made it to the Mouths of Sirion as well. Círdan welcomed all to the last bastion of free elves. Morgoth held the rest of Beleriand. 

They were still there when the Army of the Valar came to vanquish Morgoth from Arda once and for all. They saw the entire world as they knew it pass from existence. The land itself was changed and Beleriand itself was no more. 

Oropher said to Thranduil, “I am going to find a home away from others, in the wilderness. I will gather about me those who also wish to be away from politics and wars. There we will abide peacefully and live among the trees.” 

Thranduil wished to find Celeborn. He had missed his friend and wished to assure himself that he still lived. He had heard that he was here in the Havens but he had not laid eyes on him. He told his father that he and Lúthwen would join him later. 

~~~~


	8. Wandering

Chapter Eight – Wandering 

Thranduil and Lúthwen began traveling around Arda. They saw the devastation and rebuilding in the changed world. Many years had passed since Celeborn and Galadriel had set out on their own. To men, it would have been several generations but to the elves, it was as if only weeks had passed in many ways. 

The pair had actually settled in Lindon for a time. Thranduil passed through Lindon, meeting Gil-galad, now the King of the Noldor and Elrond, the child of Elwing, the daughter of Dior, grandson of Thingol. It was she who had smuggled the Silmaril from Doriath when it fell.   
Thranduil wondered where the cursed stones were, remembering that they even made him long to possess them. He hoped they were well and truly gone from Arda forever. 

Not finding Celeborn and Galadriel in Lindon, they moved to Eregion, to Ost-in-Edhil. There they ruled. Thranduil and Lúthwen were greeted as family by their old friends. 

“I am glad to see you. We heard that Oropher had moved to a forest past the Misty Mountains and settled. We thought you were with him,” Celeborn said as he welcomed them into the home he shared with his family. 

“We decided to travel, to see Arda and to see you, my friend.” 

“We have made an addition to our family since you saw us last.”

“Oh?” Thranduil wondered if they had taken in one of the Noldor relatives when Galadriel entered the room with a beautiful she-elf by her side. Thranduil knew immediately that she was their daughter. She had the beauty and the bearing of both of her parents and when she smiled, Thranduil saw the good humor and friendliness that he’d always seen in her father. 

“This is our daughter, Celebrían.” 

“I have heard much about you both,” she said as she hugged them both. 

Thranduil was smitten with her. She was lovely and kind, just the sort of daughter he thought Celeborn would have. 

The she-elves went to talk among themselves, leaving Celeborn and Thranduil alone. Celeborn went to a cabinet and returned with a pipe and small pouch. 

“Let us go outside and smoke a bit of this pipe weed. It comes from the Halflings in the Shire. Galadriel says it smells too foul to smoke it inside the house.” 

Thranduil followed him out to the garden, where they smoked and talked. There was much to catch up on and Celeborn had a good supply of pipe weed. 

“So is this the kingdom that Galadriel wanted?” 

Celeborn took a long draw and blew out some rather odd smoke rings. “I don’t think we will be welcome here much longer. Celebrimbor, one of Curufin’s sons, has begun a jewel crafters’ guild here. Gwiath-i-Mírdain they call it and it seems to have attracted a rather odd person. He is named Annatar and he claims to bring them the gift of creating powerful jewels.” 

“That sounds ominous.”

“You must remember that Celebrimbor _is_ a grandchild of Fëanor. Jewel craft is in their blood, Galadriel says.” 

“Look what trouble Fëanor’s jewels caused.” 

“Yes, that is hard to ignore. There is also the fact that he seems to believe that my wife should leave me and be his, despite their close kinship and despite the fact that she seems to despise him intently.” 

“So is he plotting against you?” 

“Yes, I think he is, him and the stranger.” 

“Perhaps you should move on. There are lands to the north and Lindon is big.” 

“Gil-galad and Elrond need no help with Lindon. I think perhaps my wife is not happy to live with the King of the Noldor in too close proximity.” 

Thranduil laughed. “I can see that.” 

“Trouble is brewing here. They make things in secret at the guild, things they smirk about but keep hidden. I fear that the stranger is not so much a stranger but I cannot prove it.”

“Who is he then?” 

Celeborn leaned close to speak in a hushed tone. “Gil-galad believes he is a servant of Morgoth. Perhaps Sauron.” 

“Sweet Eru! I knew there were orcs and such about but no idea such minions were still afoot.” 

“They seek to vanquish me because I am not afraid of them and their plotting. I do not, however, want my wife and child here among these vipers.” 

“Perhaps you all should flee. If he is indeed Sauron, then you are in grave danger every day you stay here.”

“Perhaps I will convince my wife and daughter to visit Gil-galad or Círdan in the very near future.” 

They said no more on the subject but talked instead of the fine wines Eregion produced and the abundance of fruits and vegetables the land gave them. Celeborn was fond of both farming and winemaking so he could go on for hours about varieties of grapes and such. Thranduil had little interest but found his friend’s words soothing. Celeborn had often been the voice of reason between him and his hot tempered father. 

They stayed several weeks in Eregion, enjoying their friends’ hospitality. 

On their last night, Celebrimbor came to dinner. He was charming and attentive to the women, especially Galadriel. Thranduil could detect no evil intent but Annatar was not with him either.   
When the evening was over, Celebrimbor gave Lúthwen a necklace of diamonds and mithril, so beautiful that it outshone the very sun. If Thranduil thought to be jealous or angry, he lost all desire when he saw the joy in his wife’s face at the gift. 

“I thank you, Celebrimbor, for my wife. She treasures your gift and will for many years, I suspect.” 

Lúthwen kissed his cheek in thanks as well. 

Thranduil and Lúthwen left the next morning. They had decided to find Oropher. It was time for them to join their family and help build his father’s new kingdom in the Greenwood between the Misty Mountains and Erebor, kingdom of the dwarves. 

Their journey across the mountains was arduous but they were well supplied and traveled in good weather. 

Oropher had made his home in the Greenwood, a beautiful forest inhabited by wildlife and little else. He had built his home in caves under the ground, much like Menegroth. He’d hired dwarves to help build in the caves just as they had at Menegroth as well. Thranduil was amazed at the beauty of his father’s new home. 

“I am glad to have my family back with me,” Oropher told him over dinner. “Do you not think it is time to have a family yourself?” 

“My wife has been saying the very same thing,” Thranduil told his father with a smile. 

~~~


	9. Greenwood the Great

Chapter Nine – Greenwood the Great

Thranduil was surprised by the number of elves who called his father King. Many were green elves, the Silvan elves who had always lived here east of the Misty Mountains. They had gathered to Oropher, many remembering him from the days of Doriath and the great city of Menegroth. 

The city in the caves was carved out of stone, ornate and stately, fit for a king. It sat on the Forest River that ran into Long Lake. The land was green and the forest thick. They were safe and protected here from most anything that could harm them. 

Oropher held a huge celebration at the arrival of his son. His kingdom was almost complete now. 

Almost. 

“Son, have you given thought to the fact that you need an heir?” 

Thranduil poured him and his father a glass of wine and laughed. “Why do I need an heir? I’m not going anywhere. Are you?”

Oropher wasn’t laughing though. 

“If there is one certain thing in this world, it is that there is no certainty. You know not what you will be doing one day from now, much less one hundred years from now. You should have a son to carry on if you or I cannot.” 

“Lúthwen wants to have children, but I think it best not to mention the heir part.”

Oropher raised his glass. “To your son!” 

“To my son!” 

They drank. 

*

News didn’t come fast to Greenwood but it did come. Thranduil heard of the fall of Eregion and he heard of the rings of power made by the very Annatar that Celeborn had mistrusted when they’d visited with him. He also heard of the elven rings that Celebrimbor made in secret, as well as those given to men and dwarves. 

It seemed that Annatar was none other than Sauron, a Maia turned minion of the Dark Lord himself. He had destroyed Eregion, killing Celebrimbor and using his dead body as a battle flag when his army marched on Elrond and Gil-galad, demanding the elven Rings of Power that Celebrimbor had made. 

They had given him nothing but he’d laid waste to Eregion and all who’d survived had run to Lindon and to the refuge Elrond has built called Rivendell. The siege of Imladris lasted quite some time as well but help from the men of Numenor finally arrived and Sauron had returned to Mordor to hide out. 

The Greenwood had endured most of this with no real effect on their lives except the knowledge that Sauron was still out there somewhere and would most likely rise again. 

Daily life in Greenwood was good. Game was plentiful and the human settlements around the area were glad to trade with the elves. The only shadow there at all was the knowledge that Sauron was still out there and that someday he would once again try to make Arda his own. 

They did not trade or indeed, even have contact with other elves, isolated as they were. There were dwarves here and there but after the dwarves killed Thingol, Oropher would have little to do with them. The humans of Lake-town and Dale were their only real outside contacts.

Thranduil found life to be happy here in his father’s kingdom. The Silvan elves were a content people with a great loyalty to his father. He began to train with the march wardens, honing skills he’d not used in many years of wandering. He found that he liked it too, liked spending time in the woods, hunting and fishing as well as guarding his new home from outsiders. 

It felt as if nothing from the outside world could intrude here in the vast forest of Greenwood. Oropher never grew complacent though, always keeping troops ready to defend then if need be. 

*

All idylls must come to an end and so did the life in Greenwood, or at least the quiet, isolated life. In the outer world, things were stirring. Sauron, banned forever from taking a visage as fair as that of Annatar, began to waken. It was time to rise again. Though he lost his body, he still began to rebuild his kingdom. He planned to enslave the elves and bend them to his will in an act of spite. 

Gil-galad and Elendil knew that he stirred and they began to plan to vanquish him from Barad-dûr. They knew they would need as many armies as they could muster for Sauron’s armies were vast. The two generals began their march, picking up armies as they went. 

Thranduil and Oropher heard when they crossed the Misty Mountains. Both elves knew that that Gil-galad would send for them, would ask them to join his war. Neither elf wanted to join in, both for different reasons. 

Oropher distrusted and disliked the Noldor and felt they simply should not join with them. He felt that his people would somehow end up betrayed or worse, sacrificed to win the war for the Noldor. 

Thranduil did not want to leave his tranquil home here in the forest. He knew that if they left, the home they came home to would forever altered by war and by dealing with outsiders. 

Thranduil knew who they would send to talk him and his father into joining in their war. They would send his friend, Celeborn. And in the end, he and his father would, despite their better judgment, go to war with the Last Alliance of Men and Elves to fight Sauron again, with hopes of destroying him forever. 

They did not discuss it, waiting instead to see what Celeborn had to say when he arrived. 

~~~~


	10. War is Coming

Chapter Ten – War is Coming

Celeborn arrived in Greenwood with little pomp or circumstance. He simply rode in on his horse and asked to be taken to the king and his son. He told the young march warden that he had come with news and a request from Gil-galad, King of the Noldor. 

Word was sent to Thranduil and he rode out to meet his old friend. Despite his irritation at the reason Celeborn had come, he was glad to see him. 

“Gil-galad could not come himself?” He asked as he approached Celeborn. 

Celeborn laughed. “You know as well as I do that your father would have sent him packing before he ever got off his horse.” 

Thranduil shrugged. “I am glad to see you, my friend. It has been many, many years.” 

Thranduil and Celeborn rode over the forest near the king’s residence, looking at the natural beauty all them. 

“Your home is much as ours in the Golden Wood, though we live in the trees rather than the caves. My wife has her kingdom at last and her people are green elves as well.”

“I had heard that you settled on the other side of the Anduin in Loríen. It is a beautiful place, my friend. How did Gil-galad convince you to join in his war?” 

“He did not have to. Sauron means to rule us all, to make us slaves to his will.” 

“We have noticed that the number of Orcs on our borders have increased. I can only assume that means that he is becoming stronger.”

“It will take all of our armies to defeat him, if we are able to defeat him at all. With the Ring of Power, he is stronger than he was before. Much stronger.” 

“My father has no love for the Noldor. I would never expect him to willingly take orders from a Noldor king. Surely Gil-galad knows this.” 

“I am not sure that he cares. He is stubborn and focused as well. He means to see Sauron defeated.”

“And you?” 

“My lady Galadriel is with Gil-galad and Círdan. She will do as they do.” 

Thranduil remembered the elven rings of power that Celeborn had told him of when they last met. “Who has Celebrimbor’s rings?” 

“Sauron controls the nine made for men and the dwarven ones are lost to time.” 

“But there were three more, were there not? The three he made outside Annatar’s knowledge?” 

Celeborn sighed. “I know that my lady wears one. The other two Celebrimbor gave to Gil-galad but I am not sure where they are. Gail-galad does not wear one.” 

“Do they offer protection against the enemy?” 

“Galadriel’s offers protection for our home. It is under her enchantment. We are hidden though not quite like Melían’s Girdle and our weather is fair all the time. Our mallorn trees grow tall in the sky and offer protection from all the outside world. Our borders are also closed and we do not allow anyone into our domain without escort of our march wardens.”

Thranduil laughed. “My father would love such protection here though his unfriendliness works almost as well. I fear even his bad temper would not keep the darkness out though.” 

Oropher held a banquet for their old friend from Doriath. The king acted as though he had no real idea why Celeborn had come to visit them after so many centuries. Celeborn and Thranduil went along, both thinking that the fight would come soon enough. The food and drink were plentiful as were the music and dancing. The elves partied late into the night, almost as if they knew that this would be the last party for a very long time. 

Thranduil went to see Celeborn late in the afternoon the next day. Celeborn was sitting by his bed, drinking tea and looking at maps he’d brought with him. 

“Are you ready to talk to my father?” Thranduil asked him as he poured himself a cup of tea. 

“No one is ever ready to broach a sensitive subject with your father. I fear for my life, if you want to know the truth.”

“He is angry that Gil-galad would even ask.”

“I know but he has to know that you are no safer here than any of the rest of us are. He is coming for us all.”

“I know that, as does he, but we are safe here for a time.”

Oropher sent for Celeborn the next day. Celeborn gathered up his maps and went to the King’s private rooms. 

Oropher motioned for the servant to pour them wine then sat back in his chair. 

“You are here to convince me to join the Noldor King and the human one in a siege of Barad-Dûr. I think you have perhaps wasted your time. The only reason I allowed you to come was that you were in Doriath with us and were friend to both me and my son.”

Celeborn smiled and sipped his wine. “I am quite aware of that and I thank you for your kindness.”

“Why should we join in a war now?” 

“Your land is still safe… but it won’t be for long. Orc attacks are spreading all over and he will come for you and your people as he comes for us all. We seek to rid this world of him now, before he has killed or enslaved the majority of our people. My home is enchanted thus is hidden, but yours is not. He will take the easy ones first then he will take all of them, yours and mine.”

“Can he even be defeated?” 

“We think so… we hope so.” 

“You know, we were happy and safe here before the Noldor came with their oaths and their ambition. We lived in beautiful lands with plenty.”

Celeborn laughed. “We lived under the protection of a Maia, Oropher. _She_ kept us safe and hidden and you know that as well as I do.”

Oropher looked as if he might argue with Celeborn but took a sip of wine instead. 

“Show me your maps and tell me your plans,” he finally said. 

Celeborn did and left in two days to tell Gil-galad that Oropher and his armies would be joining with them on their march to the gates of Mordor. 

~~~~


	11. Uneasy Alliances and Dead Marshes

Chapter Eleven – Uneasy Alliances and Dead Marshes 

The armies of the free peoples of Middle Earth marched to Mordor to lay siege to the Dark Lord, Sauron. 

The land of Mordor was as black and barren as the heart of its lord. Land that had once been green and growing was now dusty and dead. The armies set up camp and waited in the wasteland. For seven long years, they waited. 

Men, dwarves, elves, all left their loved ones at home to sit outside Sauron’s fortress and wait. 

Oropher and Thranduil camped near Amdir, Celeborn and Galadriel’s co-leader from Loríen. He led their armies while Galadriel and Celeborn camped with the Noldor king’s contingent. The Kings met to make plans and to strategize daily but Oropher and Amdir both refused to attend, stating that they had no intentions of taking orders from Gil-galad or any other Noldor. 

Thranduil knew someone should go so he did. He had never met any of the elves who gathered in the King’s map room except Celeborn and Galadriel. He found them all to be quite interesting and found that he quite liked the High King of the Noldor. He found him to be intelligent, of good humor and dedicated to ridding their lands of Sauron once and for all with the least possible casualties. 

Círdan was an elf he had heard of all of his life though he’d never met the bearded ship builder. Unlike most elves, Círdan had more the appearance of one in his middle years with greying hair and beard and wrinkles that made him look as kind as he really was. Elrond was full of fire and righteousness but Thranduil expected that of one as young as he was. He seemed to dog Gil-galad’s every step. 

Elendil was tall, taller even than Galadriel and Celeborn, and had the bearing of a king. He seemed to love his troops and worried for their welfare before he did his own. He also seemed to hold Gil-galad in great esteem. Never having had much to do with men, Thranduil had not known what to expect but this man, this king of men was certainly not what he’d thought men to be. 

He wished his father would meet with them, would get to know them, but his father was as stubborn as anyone he’d ever met and would do as he saw fit, no matter the cost. 

“The way I see this,” Gil-galad said, “is that we march into Mordor and keep marching until we reach him. We must first lay siege to Dagolad, then march to Barad-dûr and take him.” 

Thranduil knew this was the most direct and fastest way but it was also a way that would cost many lives. The orcs would not give in easily.

“Is there not some way to circle and come at Barad-dûr from another direction?” He asked. 

They all looked at the huge map laid over the table. 

“Well, we could go to Osgiliath but I don’t think that would be much of a surprise to Sauron. He’s already attacked that area once and holds Minas Ithil. My sons are there now, fortifying the area and holding their ground. Sauron would know the moment we went that way,” Elendil added.

They all looked and all sighed, knowing there were no easy answers and no victory without more bloodshed than Middle Earth had seen since the Kinslayings. 

“I will tell my father and Prince Amdir of your plans then,” Thranduil told them all. “May Eru be with us all.” 

*

“I will not be told how to fight a war by a king who is barely in his majority! He is wet behind the ears yet!” 

“Father, they are all reasonable and they have all thought this out. You should come to meet them, to talk with them.” 

“They cannot change the fact that they are led by the Noldor king. Celeborn and Círdan ought to know better.” 

“You still bear a grudge?”

“I do and I will every morning that I wake up to a cold and empty bed. The faithless Noldor took your mother from me and I will let them take nothing more!” 

It was only days later that King Oropher and Prince Amdir mustered their armies and attacked the forces of Sauron at Dagorlad. Thranduil wanted to ride for help, to tell the others to come to their aid, but he couldn’t leave his father. It was his duty to fight with his king, to die with him, if need be. He sent a messenger, knowing that the message would be too late but it was all that he could do. 

By the time Gil-galad got the message, it was indeed too late for Oropher and Amdir. Both had fallen along with most of their armies. Thranduil was injured but not among the dead. The other armies drove the forces of Sauron back, into Mordor, into Barad-dûr. Thranduil had no time to mourn his father right then but would have several more years before the war ended at last. 

Celeborn came to see Thranduil the evening after the battle was done. Most of the dead lay beneath the water of what would be called the Dead Marshes for many years to come. 

He said nothing, just sat down in Thranduil’s tent. He pulled a small flask from a pocket and poured a small amount of amber liquid into two of the glasses that sat to the side of the table. He handed one to Thranduil. 

“This is the last bottle of brandy from Doriath. I took some with me when we left and have used them sparingly over these many years. I think I would like to drink to your father’s memory, if you will drink with me.” 

“He was stubborn and foolish. But I loved him. Perhaps he is with Mother now. He never has been happy since she died at Menegroth.” 

“What will you do now?” Celeborn asked. 

“I will stay here until this task is done. Sauron must be defeated. After that, we shall return to the Greenwood and I shall lead my father’s people with my wife by my side. I shall not venture out of the Greenwood again if I can avoid it.” 

They drank. 

*

The siege lasted years longer than anyone would have thought. They traveled down to Osgiliath and into Mordor where they lay siege for seven more years until finally Sauron himself came out to fight. Both King Gil-galad and Elendil died but they defeated the Dark Lord. His Ring of Power fell to Isildur, son of Elendil, who lost it when he was killed at Gladden Fields. 

The Ring began its long wait…

~~~~


	12. A New King of Greenwood

Chapter 12 – A New King of Greenwood

After the battles were done, Thranduil gathered what was left of his father’s army and headed back to the Greenwood. He knew there would be much lamentation for all the lives lost in the war. He was determined that this not happen again, not under his watch. 

Lúthwen was saddened to see so few elves returning home but she was overjoyed that her husband was one of them. 

“I love you!” she jumped into his arms as soon as he dismounted. “I thought you would never return to me.”

“I wasn’t sure I would ever get back either.” He held her closer than he ever had. She had a bath drawn and food brought to their rooms. He’d thought he wanted to sleep for a month when he got home but his wife changed his mind with a smile and a kind word. Their only child was conceived on that night. Thranduil’s great love for his son would always be mingled with the sorrow of the losses of so many in the Dead Marshes. 

When he opened his eyes in the morning light, Lúthwen was smiling at him. She handed him a cup of his favorite tea and sat beside him. He knew what she was going to tell him. Elves knew when they’d created new life and his wife was already glowing with light from the life just beginning inside her. 

“I’d like to call him Legolas, our own little green leaf here in the Greenwood,” Lúthwen said. “He will be like you, my love. Strong and brave.”

“And you, generous and kind to all.” 

They spent much of the morning dreaming of what a wonderful child they would have. Thranduil had not thought it possible to love Lúthwen more but found he did love her even more since she carried his child. 

By noon, Thranduil realized that he needed to address the people of the Greenwood, to tell them of the bravery of their dead, of the victory over evil and encourage them to move forward. He owed them and his father’s memory that much.

He gathered them all in the forest, in the place where they’d had many festivals and enjoyed many celebrations over the years. When all of the people of the great Greenwood assembled, Thranduil, dressed in his finest green and white robe, stood to address them. Lúthwen nodded from where she sat.

“My brothers and sisters, I stand before you to tell you of our battles and of our glory. We vanquished the Dark Lord from his stronghold in Mordor. We killed his hosts of Orcs and foul beasts as well. 

“We should be celebrating but we are also filled with sorrow, sorrow over the losses of so many of our number, my own father among them. Every soldier fought bravely and died nobly, died for the greater good of all Middle Earth. 

“We are left here to carry on, to rebuild our lives and move on. I intend to stay here in this place and raise my own family. I hope that you all will stay too. I cannot promise that we will be protected from everything but I can promise to protect all of you as if you were my own family because, in truth, you are. I lived among you for many years and come to love you all.” 

Thranduil did not set himself up as king. It was not his throne to claim. It would be given to him by his people if they wished him to be king. He set about providing for all the widows and all the children among his people. Thranduil loved his adopted people as did his wife and they worked tirelessly to see that all were provided for. 

When winter came, the people of Greenwood were ready. They had food and fuel and each other to keep them through the cold days and in the spring, a group of them asked for permission to speak to Thranduil. He invited them into his home and Lúthwen served them tea and warm cakes she had baked herself. Thranduil bade them sit and they all sat around the table. 

An elf who had been a close friend of Oropher’s spoke. “We have been talking these last few months when there is little to do but huddle around the fireplace and talk and we would like to ask you for a favor.” 

“I will anything I can for you. You know that,” Thranduil answered the elder elf. 

“We want to make you King of our people. You have shown yourself to be kind and good, as your father was. We need a leader and someone to guide us, to hold us together as a people, and we want that someone to be you.” 

“Are you sure this is what you want? You need no king or head man to tell you what is the best course of actions. I have lived here many years and know your great knowledge and wisdom certainly overshadow anything that I know.” 

Another of the elves smiled and nodded, then said, “We may have some wisdom but we lack something important that you have. We lack the skill to lead and the confidence of our fellow elves. We all want you to be our king. If we didn’t, none of us would be here. Not a one of us would.” 

“I will consider it then and talk to my wife. I shall give you an answer in one week’s time. Is that acceptable to you all?” 

They all nodded. 

Business was done. They ate the wonderful cakes and drank tea until it ran out then they opened a bottle of Oropher’s finest wine and drank to better times and peace at last. 

Three days later, Lúthwen gave birth to a son. He was tiny with hair the color of gold and eyes the color of the sky. His father wrapped him in a green blanket and they called him Legolas, green leaves, in honor of their home and in honor of Oropher, the grandfather he would never know. 

Thranduil accepted the offer of his people to become their king. They crowned him with a garland of spring flowers and his son became the first prince of Greenwood. The world was, for now, a happy and peaceful place. 

~~~~


	13. Sorrow Unending

Chapter 13 – Sorrow Unending

Only a few years after Legolas was born, a great evil began to spread his wings and rain fire on the towns around the Long Lake and the dwarves in the Lonely Mountain kingdom. His name was Smaug and he was a fire breathing, treasure hoarding dragon. 

Thranduil had heard stories of dragons for many years. He knew these creatures were not the Balrogs of Morgoth but fell beasts in their own right. There was nothing that a dragon loved more than treasure; silver, gold, mithril, gemstones. There was nothing a dragon liked doing more than terrorizing towns and villages. 

Little was left in the wake of a dragon’s flight and the people in villages around the Greenwood began to suffer from raids and attacks. Homes and crops were burned. Whole families died in burning infernos set aflame by dragon fire. 

Thranduil was safe in his home in the caves in the Greenwood. No dragon could possibly touch him there. He was not unaffected though. His neighbors were also the people he traded with and all the elves of the Greenwood depended on them for vegetables and meats, not to mention building materials and arms. He sent food, supplies and healers to help them every time Smaug hit them. 

He didn’t know that Lúthwen often went in the healers’ wagon to the towns and villages. She had learned to the art of healing from Melían so many years ago in Menegroth and she knew she could be of use to those poor people. She carried her box of herbs and her potions and poultices with her, along with bandaging and extra blankets and beddings. She even carried a pocket full of treats for the children.

The people of Dale thought her a saint for her kindnesses. 

The dwarves and the townspeople began to try to fight Smaug but he still raided them by night and carried away young women to eat. Finally the dwarves gave up and left Lonely Mountain. Leaving their gold and gems behind, they fled and Smaug moved into the mountain at last, but the terror did not end. He guarded his treasure by day and terrorized Dale by night. No one dared go out after nightfall.

Lúthwen had been in Dale all day, doctoring the sick and wounded and had not noticed how low in the sky the sun had gone. She came out of the healer’s tent and looked at the darkening world around her. 

“We must hurry to get home. It won’t do to be out after nightfall.” 

“Please, my lady, stay with us until daylight,” the old healer of Dale pleaded. 

“I cannot. The King does not know where I am and the baby will be wanting his dinner and his mama to put him to bed.” 

“I fear for you if you go out there.” 

She smiled her beautiful smile and rode off into the night. 

The only thing anyone ever found was one of the wagon wheels and her herb box, both scorched black by dragon fire. Thranduil searched for her for days, hoping to find some sign that she got away. He found nothing save one single diamond from her necklace. He knew then that she was lost to him, that his son had no mother. 

He rode back to the Greenwood and it would be a long time before he came out of his stronghold and only begrudgingly then. 

Smaug had taken over the Lonely Mountain and run the descendants of Durin out. They had moved away to live among their kin elsewhere, but not without Smaug taking a stone precious to them: the Arkenstone. It was said to be a stone that glowed with a near magical light that, when cut by the dwarves, had begun to reflect back ten thousand lights with all the colors of the rainbow. Durin’s Folk valued this stone more than any other and vowed to take it back someday. 

The men of Dale had fled and left their fine little town in ruins. They were no match for Smaug and they were all weary of death. 

With his food source all gone and his mountain full of bountiful treasure, Smaug lay down and went to sleep, resting happily on heaps of golden cups and plates as well jewels of every make and color. Buried on one of the piles was a diamond necklace with one stone missing near the clasp in the back. 

*

Thranduil was distraught. He had endured the death of his own mother and father quite stoically, but this death was more than he could bear. How could she be gone? Why didn’t she stay in the village? Why had she gone there without telling him? He went over these things again and again, not being able to answer and hating all the powers in the universe for denying him a reason why she had to die. 

He couldn’t bear the sight of his only son, his little green leaf. The child reminded him so much of his mother, of her beauty and her goodness. He sat on his throne alone and heard the boy crying for his mother, a mother who would never come back. He wanted to be able to take Legolas up in his arms and comfort him, but he had no comfort to give. There was none anywhere in his world. 

He began to gather gems to himself, and shiny gold and silver, even dwarven mithril. He had rooms built to house his riches. Some days he went down to those rooms and sat on a simple chair in the middle of it all and thought about how much Smaug had in his lair. 

Someday he would see that dragon dead. Someday Smaug would pay. 

*

Little Legolas did not remember his sweet mother for very long for her name was not allowed to be spoken in the Greenwood by anyone, not even to Legolas. He was a sweet and sunny child with the beauty of both of his parents and pleasing disposition that was his mother’s alone. 

The cook raised him from the time his mother died. She loved him with all her heart and made sure that he knew how much he was loved and valued. As he got older, he longed for his father’s love but Thranduil had no love to give and would not for a very long time. 

~~~~


	14. Dwarves and Hobbits

Chapter Fourteen – Dwarves and Hobbits 

Life settled down after Smaug grew bored and stopped attacking towns but nothing was ever the same in the Greenwood. Thranduil was still a good King and provided leadership for his people, but his heart was cold and he was distant to one and all, even his son. 

Legolas did not lack for love and attention, for all had loved his mother and they now lavished the motherless child with the love they’d felt for her. He grew in spirit as well as body and became a fine elf, one of great character and kindness. He trained with the archery masters and the combat masters until he became the best soldier in Greenwood as well. He studied healing and history and even learned a little gem craft. 

He did all these things to please a father who seemed to not even notice that he was there. Legolas longed to sit at his father’s feet and hear stories of old, stories of his grandfather and grandmother, of his own mother, but there was none of that for him. His father sat and collected gems and precious metals and worried about safety. 

Legolas might have wished for much more but it did not make him gloomy or sad, nor did he hold back his love for anyone, not even his father. He simply did his best and went on. That was all that he could do. It was enough for now. 

Thranduil, for his part, did love his son and noticed much more than anyone knew. He simply did not have anything left for him. Not now. Maybe never. 

Many years passed as they do for elves and those who do not die and little changed or perhaps it is better to say that change came gradually but it did come. 

After the war of the Last Alliance, that fool son of Elendil had managed to get himself killed and lose the One Ring that he had taken from the severed hand of Sauron. Where it was, no one knew, but it was out there somewhere and gradually, it began to call to its master and deep in the earth, darkness began to stir again. 

Sauron had holed himself up deep in Dol Guldur. He began to stir and the Greenwood gradually darkened and became haunted with black animals and giant talking spiders who dined on the creatures they caught. The elves stopped traveling in the darkened woods and stayed closer and closer to their stronghold. Thranduil increased patrols as Orcs joined the fell creatures in wandering what had once been the beautiful Greenwood the Great. It was now called Mirkwood and it was a dark and gloomy place. 

Legolas was the captain of the guard and spent much time out in the forest protecting his home and people. His father developed a keen respect for the skills of his son though he did not tell him so. 

There were still green forests near Thranduil’s home and the elves still loved to party and frolic in those woods. Thranduil might not be as jolly as he once was but he enjoyed a feast with good food, good wine and a little music and dancing. 

It was on one of these occasions that the elves sensed someone watching their party. Being as cautious as they had become, they immediately put out their lights and went completely still. The watchers slipped away. They did this four times and finally caught one of them. 

The intruder was a dwarf, and a fairly high ranking one, too, from his clothes and bearing. Legolas himself took this one to his father. Thranduil knew he was Thorin Oakenshield, formerly of the Lonely Mountain, and knowing that, he also knew why he was there. He had come to take the mountain back. It crossed Thranduil’s mind to simply have him killed. He did not want that damnable dragon flying again. 

When he questioned the dwarf, all Thorin would say was that they were starving then he finally stopped talking at all. Thranduil had him locked in a room though he did give him plenty of food and water. Poor thing seemed almost delirious. 

It was only a matter of time until Legolas and company caught the rest of the dwarves. None of them would tell Thranduil anything useful so he had them all put in cells. They had help from someone and escaped. Thranduil later learned that it was the hobbit that Gandalf had the dwarves employ as help who somehow secreted himself inside the caves and helped them escape using apple barrels in the river. 

A few months later, the dragon awoke and attacked the men of Lake Town. The dragon was killed by Bard the Bowman but not before the town was destroyed. As he had done in times of old, Thranduil gave aid to the men, sending food and provisions along with healers.

Thranduil called Legolas to his throne room. “We shall march on the Lonely Mountain. I will not let that dwarf take all of Smaug’s treasure. The men who have lived here in the shadow of the dragon deserve a share as do we.” 

He did not tell his son there was one piece that he desired from Smaug’s horde, Lúthwen’s necklace of diamonds. 

Legolas organized the troops and had them ready when his father was ready to march. Thranduil had organized the aid effort though he would never admit to having compassion for anyone, not even as he delivered the needed aid to the refugees. 

*

On the day before they marched to the Lonely Mountain, Thranduil asked his son to visit him alone. Legolas, ever the obedient son, went to his father. 

Thranduil sat at a table to the side of his throne. He had a bottle of wine and two silver goblets waiting for them. 

“Sit down, my son. Before we march into battle, we must talk.” 

Legolas nodded and listened, for he had no idea what his father might say. 

“I know that I have not been the kind of father you have deserved. You are a wonderful son, a better son than I was. I argued with my father all the time, but he was a good father and a good king. I am not sure that I have been either.” 

Legolas said nothing, still unsure of what to say.

“I do love you. I love you more than anyone in the world. You are my only family and my only son. It’s – I have – I loved your mother so much that when she died, I – a big part of me died as well. And you look like her, you have her kind heart and her spirit of love in all you do. Some days, when I look at you, I ache to see her one more time, to speak one more word to her.”

Legolas still said nothing. He had only very vague memories of his mother and was almost angry at her that his father could not love him because he looked like her. 

“I want you to forgive me. I have not been a good father and I am sorry for that. I have never told you of your mother and how much she adored you. You were her all. She and I waited many years to have you and when we did, you were our whole world.”

Thranduil looked off into the distant past. 

“I knew her since I was a child. Her family turned up in Doriath not long after mine did and I fell for her when I was but a child. I was honored that she married me when she could have her choice of all the elves in the kingdom. 

“Her laughter is one of the things I remember most. She loved to laugh and loved humor. I never can figure why she married me though. I am certainly not jovial nor have I ever been. But with her at my side, the world was a light and beautiful place.”

He came back to the present and looked at his son. “Oh, Legolas, I wish you had known her. How I wish it for the both of us.” 

“Father, I should be getting the troops ready to move.”

Thranduil cleared his throat and stood. He awkwardly pulled his son close and kissed his cheek. “I love you, my Legolas Greenleaf. Please be safe.” 

Legolas kissed his father back. “I love you, too, Papa. Do not worry. I will be fine.”

With that, he was out the door and off to make ready for war.

~~~~


	15. In War and Peace

Chapter Fifteen – In War and Peace

Thranduil and his army marched on the Lonely Mountain and were about to attack the stronghold held by Thorin and his small band when the Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, came out of the mountain in secret and gave Thranduil and Bard the Arkenstone, the stone that Thorin searched for. He hoped they could use it as a bargaining tool to avoid war. 

But war was not to be avoided. 

Just as they were poised to attack Thorin, armies of the Dark Lord, hordes of Orcs and Wargs, attacked them. The battle was brutal and the casualties were high on all sides, but in the end, the forces of Sauron were driven back once again. 

Thranduil was determined to get the necklace from the treasure inside the mountain and stubbornly insisted that he be allowed a share of the dragon’s treasure. He told no one what it was he sought, not even the wizard. 

The spoils were divided after the war, with the survivors of the original fourteen dwarf band getting large shares. Thorin had been killed, along with his two young nephews. The Hobbit got two casks of gold, which he seemed elated about. Thranduil found him a rather interesting character and wondered how he’d managed to free the other dwarves from their cells. 

Beorn the Bear Man was known to Thranduil and he was thankful the strange creature had come with the Eagles to help them win against their foes. It seemed that Beorn was about as happy company as he was, though he did seem rather pleased to have Gandalf and Bilbo readying to go home with him for the winter. 

Before they left, Bilbo came to Thranduil.

“I, uh, have something to give you, Your g – grace, sire, uh King Thranduil,” he stammered. 

“What might that be?” 

Bilbo opened a box of gold and lifted out a necklace of diamonds, a necklace with one diamond missing. “I know that you received some of the gold but I felt that you might want a few jewels as well. I know that elves do like sparkling jewels and it would be most seemly for you to have these, if you like, s – sire,” he finished unsurely.

Thranduil was deeply touched, for he knew the hobbit had no real way of knowing what the necklace truly meant to him but still, he offered it freely. Thranduil took it almost reverently, holding it gently in his hands and letting the light play across the diamonds, giving off prisms of light in every direction. 

“I thank you, Mr. Baggins of the Shire. I thank you for your help in this war and for your thoughtful gift. I would name you elf friend to us of the Greenwood and tell you that you are welcome to our home any time.”

Bilbo smiled and bowed. 

“You must tell me how you broke those dwarves out of my cells someday.” 

Bilbo just smiled and said nothing. 

*

Thranduil and his armies returned home. He placed the necklace in the top drawer of the bureau that his wife had used to store her jewelry and hair decorations. There had been an empty space waiting there for it for many years. 

Legolas had seen Bilbo give his father the necklace and he saw the look on his father’s face. He knew it had belonged to his mother, but wasn’t sure how to ask his father about it. In the end, he decided that knowing was enough and said nothing. 

*

Mirkwood did not change after the battle. It stayed dark and gloomy with evil spiders who talked among themselves as they readied their captives to become food. Thranduil’s people stayed to the north and guarded against incursions of orcs and other minions of Darkness. 

Several years later, Strider, a man of the Dunedain, came to their borders with a most pathetic creature in tow. He had once been a hobbit but he had been corrupted into something more pitiful yet more sinister. It was the creature Gollum, escaped from Sauron. Strider told Thranduil that the creature had once possessed the One Ring that Sauron had made and that had been lost by Isildur in Gladden Fields. 

Thranduil agreed to keep him and found himself wondering where the One Ring was now. Strider did not seem to know but Thranduil had a nagging suspicion, one that he voiced to no one at all. 

Perhaps that was how Mr. Baggins was able to free his friends…

*

Gollum did not stay imprisoned forever; somehow he managed to escape Mirkwood. Thranduil was angry but glad also to be rid of the horrid little beast. He knew that there was a meeting in Rivendell to address the problem of the One Ring. It seemed that Gandalf had found it, that that wily little hobbit had it the whole time and now it had to be dealt with. 

He had to tell them that Gollum was no longer a prisoner. Or send someone to do it. Thranduil had not left his home since the Battle of the Five Armies so long ago and he did not intend to start doing so now. 

He sent for Legolas. 

“My son, I am sending you to Rivendell to the home of Elrond to report on the escape of Gollum. They are meeting about the One Ring and they need to know that he is loose and out there somewhere.”

“I would prefer to stay here.” 

“You are the only one I trust to be the eyes and ears of the Greenwood among all those Noldor and half-elves. Besides, I have information that dwarves will be there as well.” 

Legolas knew how fond his father was of dwarves. He smiled and nodded. “Perhaps I need to take a trip away from home once in a while to make me appreciate it more.” 

Legolas and a few other elves set out for the Council of Elrond in Rivendell. Legolas expected to tell them about Gollum and come home. No one, with the exception of Gandalf himself, seemed to have any idea that this meeting and its aftermath would change Middle Earth forever and change the fortunes of all involved, even Thranduil back home in the Greenwood. 

~~~~


	16. Eryn Lasgalen

Chapter Sixteen – Eryn Lasgalen

Legolas did not return home after the council but the other elves who had accompanied him did and made their report to Thranduil.

“He what?” Thranduil’s face was red with anger and his voice rang through the hall. No one had seen him this angry in many years.

“He joined the Fellowship to carry the One Ring to Mount Doom and throw it in.” 

“Is he crazy? What on earth would make him do such a thing?” Thranduil ranted and raved and yelled and cursed until no one would even go into the same room with him. 

Finally the cook, who had been with him since he was a child, went to him in his throne room. Thranduil sat on his throne on its dais and stared out at nothing. Cook walked right up to him with her hands on her hips. 

“Sire?” 

He ignored her. 

“King?” 

Nothing.

“Thranduil!” 

He wheeled around at her and started to shout but closed his mouth. 

“You cannot sit here and mope forever.” 

“I am the king. I can do whatever I want to do.”

Cook cocked her head to one side. 

“You sound like a toddler.” 

“Watch how you talk to the king, Cook.” 

“I feed you. Watch how you talk to me.”

Thranduil looked straight at her. “What do you want?”

“I want you to stop acting silly and be the king. Your people need you. Orcs are coming closer every day and they’re scared.”

“Why did my son leave?” 

“He did what he thought was the right thing to do. He knows that destroying that Ring is the thing someone has to do. You raised him to do what should be done. It’s your own fault, you know.” 

“Mount Doom is a most horrible place. I have been there and I know.” 

“Why did you go?” 

“You know the answer to that. We had to fight Sauron. We had no choice.” 

Cook smiled. “There you have your answer then, don’t you?”

Thranduil wasn’t any happier but he did stop moping as much. He hoped his son didn’t take up with any bad sorts – like the Noldor or worse, dwarves. 

*

While Legolas was journeying all across Middle Earth, the woods became darker and darker. Orcs increased in number and travel became almost too hazardous for any but the bravest or most foolhardy. 

Thranduil knew that war was coming here in the North as well as down in the southern lands of Gondor and Rohan. The orcs and men who served the Dark Lord would have to be defeated in all parts of Middle Earth, including here in Mirkwood and as far as Loríen. 

He called his captains to him and bade them kill any who wandered into the woods from the outside, be they man or orc. Elves caught trespassing he asked to be brought before him. Orc incursions increased tenfold and the spiders and other animals became bolder in their attacks as well. 

News came that Strider, who was really the heir of Isildur, led an Army to the Black Gates. Thranduil knew his son was there with Strider and the others, even a dwarf. He had been to those Black Gates himself. He wasn’t sure anyone could win there and win decisively. The War of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men had simply put off the inevitable when Isildur refused to destroy the One Ring. 

Thranduil did a lot of pacing in those weeks. 

One evening, Celeborn was shown into his underground fortress. 

“Why have you come?” Thranduil asked with little preamble. 

“I have news. We have driven the Orcs from Loríen and the war is won. The Ring is undone and Aragorn is to be crowned King in Gondor. My wife will sail soon and I propose we join the two lands of Loríen and Mirkwood into one forest. We can protect it better that way… at least until Sauron’s minions are all killed and gone for good.”

“My son? What of my son?” At that moment, Thranduil did not care at all for the fate of Middle Earth. All he wanted to know was how Legolas faired. 

“He is well, still with Aragorn, though I hear that he and dwarf will go to the Glittering Caves and Fangorn Forest.” 

“Legolas is traveling with a dwarf?” Thranduil shouted. 

“Gimli is the son of Gloin, one of the dwarves who came with Thorin to the Lonely Mountain.” 

“That does not make me feel better, Celeborn.”

“Legolas and Gimli have become fast friends. They fought side by side for many months.” 

Thranduil finally said, “Well, at least he has not taken up with a Noldor.”

Celeborn laughed. 

“I brought a bottle of wine from Rohan. They do more than breed horses. This wine is quite tasty. Would you like to share it with me?” 

Thranduil had never been one to turn down a glass of wine and he didn’t this time either. He found a couple of goblets in a cabinet and Celeborn poured the wine. They sat at the table, two old friends, and drank. When that bottle was done, Thranduil motioned for Celeborn to follow him to the wine cellar. They chose a few more bottles and sat down right there in the cellar with their goblets and drank some more. 

They toasted and drank and talked for hours and hours until they both simply fell asleep with their heads on the wooden table in front of them. Cook had her kitchen staff move them to bedrooms and she removed their shoes and covered them with blankets, silently thanking Celeborn for coming to visit. She remembered him from so many years before at Menegroth. He had always been a good friend to Thranduil, despite their differences over the years. 

Both elves were a little worse for wear come daybreak. Cook made them some strong tea and added her secret remedy for too much drink to each cup. She added simple bread and butter to their trays and went to serve each elf breakfast in his respective bed. 

By midmorning, both elves were up and about and not complaining as much as they had earlier. 

“Celeborn, I think joining the two woods might be a good idea. I know that Galadriel’s ring protected Loríen for many years and that when she leaves, it will still need protection. Perhaps we could rename this wood though. Mirkwood is such an ugly name.”

“What about Eryn Lasgalen? Wood of Greenleaves… for your father and your son.” 

Thranduil nodded. 

Eryn Lasgalen it would be. 

~~~~


	17. Homecoming

Chapter Seventeen – Homecoming

After Celeborn left, Thranduil wondered if he would ever see his son again. He did not believe that his son would leave Gondor while the new King Elessar lived. He learned that his son was living in Ithilien, near the White City. The son of the Steward of Gondor had been named prince there as well. The dwarf had taken up residence in the Glittering Caves with his people and word had it that Legolas visited often. 

One day, Thranduil was reading a missive delivered to him from Celeborn, who was living in Rivendell with his grandsons. Celeborn told of the withering of the woods all over Middle Earth and how few elves there were anymore. 

He was only half paying attention to his surroundings when he heard someone clear his throat. He held up a hand for him to wait until he was done with his letter. 

“Father.” 

One word. That voice! He thought he would never hear it again. He dropped the letter to the floor and stood. 

Legolas stood before him, looking much as he has the last time Thranduil had seen him. 

For the first time since Legolas was a baby, his father ran to him and lifted him off of his feet, kissing his solidly on one cheek then the other. 

“I thought that I might never see you again,” he finally managed. 

Legolas smiled. “It has been too long. I feared I would never see you again either.”

“Come! Sit! Tell me everything.” 

“I am not sure there is enough time in the world for that. I have missed you and missed this place.”

Thranduil sent for food and drink. The two sat at the table all day and talked, Legolas telling of his adventures with the Fellowship and of the small hobbit who carried the One Ring all the way to Mount Doom. He told his father of the fate of Gollum, the pitiful creature that they’d imprisoned for Aragorn before the War. 

“I hear that you have taken a dwarf for your boon companion.” 

Legolas smiled again. “His name is Gimli, son of Gloin, and he is finest person I have known besides you and King Elessar. After the War of the Ring was done, we explored Fangorn Forest and the Glittering Caves. He brought his people to live in the caves after that.” 

“Is he the son of one of the dwarves who we caught in the forest?” 

Legolas grinned. “He is and he says he forgives us.” 

Thranduil harrumphed but there was no anger in the sound. “A dwarf?” 

“A dwarf.” 

They talked of the new King of Gondor and his wife, the granddaughter of Celeborn and Galadriel. This line of talk led to Thranduil telling his son of growing up in Menegroth with Celeborn, a story Legolas had not known of, and of his courtship of Lúthwen in that once enchanted kingdom. 

Day passed and night fell and still the two talked, a lifetime of words passed between them in one day. Legolas found the father he had never known and Thranduil became the father he had never been. 

All too soon, Thranduil knew his son would go. “How long will you stay?” 

“I shall stay but a few days. I wanted to ask if there are any elven folk here who might want to live in Ithilien. I would like to have some of my own people about me in the south and I am sure their healing craft and herbal lore would be appreciated by the other folk of the city.”

Thranduil nodded. “People have begun leaving this wood in the last few months. I think many would love to join you in a city with other people. We will speak with them tomorrow. I should like to have a banquet in honor of your homecoming even if it is only temporary.” 

“I would like that too, Father. It’ll be nice to see everyone again.” 

Thranduil was in the kitchen before sunrise the next morning. Cook was already making pastries and heating water for tea. 

“My son is here.” 

“Yes, he is. He looks well. I peeped in at the two of you last night. It is good to see him again. He reminds me of his mother, you know.” Cook had never stood on ceremony with him and wasn’t about to start now. 

“I would like to have a banquet before he goes back.” 

She nodded. “He’s a good son. You raised a good son, Sire.” 

Thranduil smiled sadly at his old friend. “I expect you have more to do with how he turned out than I have. Thank you for everything. I don’t know that this land would have run so well all these years without your help.”

She smiled. “I’ve been telling you that for years. Good night, sire.”

“Sleep well, dear friend,” he told her as she bowed and exited the room. 

*

The royal banquet was the finest that Thranduil had ever thrown. He pulled out all the stops and spared no expense, even inviting the men of the surrounding towns and the few dwarves who still lived nearby. 

All who were invited came. It was if they all knew that an era was ending and they would never see the likes of this again in their lives or in any days to come. 

Legolas sat with his father at the head table. They laughed and talked and drank many a toast. Course after course of food was hauled to the large banquet tables and guests ate all they could and some even secretly tucked away a few morsels in their pockets and bags to take away with them. They told themselves they didn’t want anything to go to waste but the truth was, the food really was that good. Cook had produced the best both elves and men had to offer in meats and vegetables, breads and cheeses, and desserts tasty enough to make the most devoted food lover weep with joy. 

Thranduil never wanted the night to end because he knew it would bring him one day closer to losing his son again. No, not losing him this time. This time it was simply that Legolas would move to a new home. He would never lose him again. 

~~~~


	18. Departures

Chapter Eighteen – Departures

Legolas went back to Gondor and a rather large group of Silvan elves followed him to his and their new home. Thranduil was saddened that his people were leaving but happy that they found a place to live with other elves. He had no doubt they might mingle with the men until finally the two became the same people. 

Thranduil began to travel a bit after that, riding from one place to another all over Middle Earth, traveling as a stranger from town to town, from inn to inn. He visited Celeborn and the sons of Elrond as often as he could, enjoying his old friend’s company. 

He traveled to Gondor and to Ithilien, visiting Legolas and seeing the elves who had moved here among men. All seemed happy with their new lives. He even met Gimli on one trip and sat down to break bread at a dwarven table, surrounded by Gimli and his various progeny and as always, Legolas was there as well. 

Time passed, quickly for elves and even more quickly for men, who do not have years unnumbered as elves do. 

Aragorn had sons, grew old and decided to let the bonds of life go. Arwen died soon after from a broken heart. Thranduil heard these things with a heavy heart. He remembered the young Strider, who boldly strode into his kingdom to leave him with Gollum as prisoner. He remembered once seeing the beautiful young granddaughter of Celeborn, who was said to be as beautiful as Lúthien herself. He knew this to be true, for he had known Lúthien as well. 

Legolas came to him after Arwen was buried by her brothers. 

“Father, I said I would stay until Elessar passed into the place where mortal men rest and he has. It is time for me to build my ship and sail.”

“Will you not travel the roads with me a few years?” He asked the question but already knew the answer. 

Legolas’ smile was sad. “I – I have fought the longing for too many years. I want to go beyond the sea, to see what lies ahead.” 

Thranduil felt tears burn his eyes. “I will not see you again, my son.” 

“We will await your arrival…”

“I will stay here in this land until this world passes as well. I have been guardian to elven realms for all of my life and I shall stand guard here as long as I can.” 

“Gimli will sail with me. He said he wishes to lay eyes on Galadriel one more time.” 

Thranduil laughed. “He and Celeborn are both fools for her. Celeborn was lost the first time he laid eyes on her.” 

Legolas chucked, remembering Gimli seeing her in Loríen for the first time, remembering the hair she gave him as his gift. “Gimli too. He was hers from that very first moment.”

“Your city is nice, busy and prosperous. Is this land good to our folk as well as men?” 

“Yes, there are many elves here and they’re happy I think. I am happy to have elves around me as well. I will be sad to leave them as well as you, Father.”

He did not go to the Havens to watch Legolas and Gimli depart. There were some things he simply could not do. 

After Legolas left, there were still a few elves left here and there. A small colony lived near the Havens. They seemed to be waiting for the right time to go to the West as well. Thranduil wondered what held them back. 

Without the protection of the elves, the forests began to grow smaller and the cities grew bigger as the number of men increased and then increased some more. The dark lands were cleared and water was rerouted by damns and manmade tributaries to make dead lands live again. Cities and villages began to pop up all over and woods became smaller and less dense. It was hard to hide in the woods now. 

Thranduil found himself spending more and more time with Celeborn. The elf lord still lived in what was left of Rivendell with his grandsons but even Rivendell was beginning to fade. One day, Celeborn had news for him. 

“My grandsons and I are about to sail into the West. Círdan is in the harbor and we will go with him. I think it will be his last journey. It may be the last journey anyone can make from here to the West. Will you come with us?” 

Thranduil looked at Celeborn for a long time, saying nothing. Then he shook his head slowly. “I will stay here until this world is no more. I have been here all my life and have felt no desire to ever live elsewhere. I feel no such sea longing as most do. Perhaps it is my job to stay, to make sure that elves and the free peoples of Middle Earth are not forgotten in the passage of time.”

Celeborn nodded sadly. He would miss his oldest friend.

~~~~


	19. Epilogue - Strange New World

Epilogue – Strange New World

“I tell you, I saw an elf!” The young girl told her grandmother one day as they walked through the old forest, looking for mushrooms to put in their dinner.

“Child, how many times have I told you that elves are made up? They aren’t real.” The old woman picked up her basket and headed toward the worn path they would take home. 

“How do you know?” 

“I have never seen one and I lived here all my life.”

“Grandpa says he’s seen them.” The little girl was adamant.

“Your grandfather swears that he found the money for your new dress in a pot of gold, too, but I expect he won it at The Prancing Pony playing darts with his mates.” 

He stood in the shadows and smiled to himself. She had seen him. She’d seen him several times, as a matter of fact. He often slipped into her grandmother’s house when all were abed and dropped a few extra coins in the old woman’s purse. He’d even put a pot of gold near the road on the path the old man took to his pub so he could buy the little girl a new dress. 

He watched the two of them until they were out of sight. 

It was hard to think he had once commanded armies and ruled a land with thousands of subjects. He’d seen unspeakable evil, too, as well as bravery so profound it still brought him to tears. He had lived in a world ripe with magic and wonder. 

This world had little of those things. It was hard and cold, this new world. Men did not believe in magic anymore, so they seldom saw anything miraculous. To them, elves and dwarves and fairy princesses were simply bedtime stories for little ones like Maddy. They read the stories of old but never understood what it was they read. They did not see how the world gave back what it got. Love and kindness gave back the same. They hurt the world with their chemicals and machines and ignored the signs, the signs he’d seen before. 

Just as the little girl and her grandmother started around the bend that would take them out of sight, she turned and looked back, right at him. Thranduil smiled and gave her a little wave. The look of joy on her face made feel better. Her world was still safe. For now. 

~end~

**Author's Note:**

> This biography of Thranduil is based on Tolkien, in the stories found in _The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings,_ and _The Silmarillion_. There are a few changes in order to make the story move a little better and for clarity. I made up wives for Thranduil and his father, Oropher, and the original character of Cook makes an appearance.


End file.
